People Will Talk
by WarriorOfTheWeek
Summary: Strange noises, panting and loud thumping? Yes, People will definitely talk now.


**One-shot but if you guys really like it I'll turn it into a series of one shots. **

"Ow! Hey-"

"Sorry."

"Take it easy!"

"I can't be much more gentle, John!"

Lestrade faltered on the third step. The sounds that were drifting down from the Consulting Detectives flat were anything from what he had been expecting . His hands tightened around the folder he was carrying and he turned, glancing back down toward the door, wondering if he should leave. Was he just over-reacting? The conversation sounded strange, yes, but this was Sherlock we're talking about. He forced himself up the old creaky stairs, trying to make as much noise as possible. Another outburst caught his attention, and he stopped.

"Sherlock, Jesus Christ, are you _made _of elbows?" The doctor sounded out of breath.

"Stop fidgeting!" The detective snapped harshly.

"It hurts!" John gasped.

"I told you it was going to hurt but you said we should go ahead and do it anyway!" Lestrades eyebrows flew upwards and his eyes grew wide.

"Honestly, John, you must make up your mind." Sherlock said, sounding a bit winded as well.

"Can we stop now?" Johns muffled voice asked pleadingly.

"Are you insane? We cant stop now! Not when I'm so close!" Sherlock replied. This statement was accompanied by several loud thumps and John letting out a cry of pain.

"Sorry!" Sherlock said with obvious strain in his voice.

Lestrade crept closer, noticing the door was ajar. He knocked loudly, but there was no reply. A gunshot from inside the flat caused Lestrade to jump and, out of instinct go running in.

Both John and Sherlock were standing in the main room, sweating and breathing heavily, but fully clothed thank God! John had one pillow over his stomach, another over his back, which were tied firmly to his body. A baseball bat was resting on the floor next to what appeared to be a tape outline of John. A gun was resting in Sherlock's hand, and judging from the momentary look of shock on his face, he hadn't been expecting it to be loaded.

John looked with horror from the gun in Sherlock's hand to the wall before shrieking, "Christ, Sherlock! The gun was _loaded_! _You shot a loaded gun at me_! I could have been killed!"

"But you weren't, now were you?" Sherlock asked, now fully regaining his composure. He set the gun on the table before turning on his heels and clapping his hands together and speaking as if nothing had just happened. "Ah, Gavin, brought me those unsolved cases, have you? Its about time."

Greg looked at him cautiously, "Its Greg, and you only texted me asking for them forty-five minutes ago." he growled.

"The time it takes for you to arrive here from your flat is usually only fifteen minutes. You were not at work today judging from the amount of stubble on your chin so I'm assuming you were out. Oh who am a kidding you weren't out you have no life outside of work."

Greg furrowed his eyebrows at Sherlock and cast a glance at John, who had one hand clasp over his heart and appeared to be doing breathing exercises.

"The glaze across your eyes suggests you were looking at a screen for some while, not a laptop screen or else you would be squinting and your hand would be twitchy. No, it was a T.V. screen. Judging from the ice cream on your shirt it was an emotional show, I'm going with Soap Opera."

"Downton Abbey." Greg corrected grudgingly.

"Same thing." Sherlock said waving his hand dismissively, jerking the folder out of Lestrades hands and slamming it down on his desk by Johns laptop.

"I wanted to ask something else…what was it… oh yes, what the _hell_ is going on?"

Sherlock looked back at John and then back at Greg. "A women, 43, was beat with a baseball bat then shot in the head. She had some strange circular markings on her back however that were not from the bat nor the gun." He let out a frustrated sigh and looked off into the distance, obviously thinking. "Strange…very strange…" he mumbled.

"Yeah," John spoke up now, seeming to have calmed down some. "So for the last fifty minutes he has been reenacting the crime using me as the women and hitting me with different circular objects that might have been in the ally."

There was a small silence as Greg took in what he had heard. "Well," he said after a moment. "Its sounds like the two of you are busy. I should be off."

"A new episode on tonight, Jeremy?" Sherlock asked from the window, a smirk gracing his features. He picked up his violin and ran it through his hands carefully before positioning it between his shoulder and his chin and beginning to play it softly.

"Its Greg." Lestrade growled as he walked toward the door, John accompanying him.

"Be careful going home, Greg." John said earnestly, smiling kindly as Greg stepped out onto the stairs.

"I will. Oh, and, John," Lestrade said turning back to look at the doctor. "Make sure the door is closed next time, unless you want people to talk."

**Ta-da! Let me know if you liked it and want to see more of this kind of thing. **


End file.
